


A Parody of Fine

by Miss_TC_Nova



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_TC_Nova/pseuds/Miss_TC_Nova
Summary: Xehanort leaves and Eraqus doesn't handle it well.
Relationships: Eraqus/Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts)
Kudos: 11





	1. Eraqus

The weight in his chest is enough to make his knees tremble. Nevertheless, Eraqus smiles—smiles as if his heart’s not breaking—smiles as if the only light left in his life isn’t walking away from him.

_Don’t scream,_ says the mind. _He needs to do this…He needs this._

_Don’t go! Please, come back!_ the heart begs. _I don’t know what will happen without you! Please don’t leave me alone!_

The fog consumes his beloved, finalizing the departure. The young man left standing in the rain lets his lips fall, erasing the smiling mask he’s been wearing for so long. Not even his partner has seen this face—his true face; only his friend lying just off the path have seen this face.

Normally, a word of greeting, apology, or something is offered upon reaching these grave markers, but today, he has no desire to express his darkness to the friends who can only listen. Back to the castle it is.

There’s some luck on this bad day when he comes across no one on his trek back to the dorms. His brain barely registers that he should clean up and get out of his soaked clothes; thus he leaves behind a sodden trail on his way to the bathroom. The click of the lock brings some security in the privacy it lends him. A hand towel drags across his face to soak up the mix of rain water and tears, but while he hides behind the fabric, he’s tempted to just break right then and there.

In his meager determination not to fall apart, his hands drop. Eyes lazily roam the mirror—crossing over his drenched, tangled hair and pale face—until his gaze snags. Gleaming beneath the artificial light is the black band that instantly crushes his fortitude. That weight from earlier intensifies, forcing the air from his lungs and restricting the beat of his heart. Lips twist into a snarl that feebly holds back a shuddering sob.

To anyone sparing the young man a glance—if they even noticed the band—it would look like an ordinary ear cuff and part of his daily attire. But to anybody who knew Eraqus, it symbolizes something so much more. His friends knew—they’re all dead. What most people may not consider is that this cuff is one in a set of two; the other belongs to the young man that left him behind today.

Trembles wrack through his body, making it near impossible to stand, and clamped over his mouth is a hand desperately trying to stifle the noise. Everything blurs and he finally lets loose everything he’s been holding in. But as Eraqus has his quiet breakdown, sorrow and self-pity morph into anger—distraught at being abandoned. It should’ve been impossible for Xehanort to overlook his anxiety, his distress. This was the person closest to him, who knew him best, so there’s no way he didn’t notice. Then Eraqus starts to think that maybe he did, but he just didn’t care—he’d brushed off all the attempts to convince him out of leaving after all.

Frustration wins over. Quavering hands unclasp the jewelry, freeing his ear of the metal for the first time in over four years. In his palm, the black piece taunts him with its star-shaped cutout—the stupid reason he picked the pair to begin with. This stupid piece of metal that was supposed to symbolize their bond forever but that didn’t stop his salvation from deserting him.

His fist clenches around the metal, willing to crush it, and when that doesn’t work, clambering into the porcelain bath to shove the window open requires little thought. Arm drawn back, Eraqus is fully prepared to fling the jewelry into the tragic unknown.

His hand never snaps forward—he just can’t. His heart is still clinging to those thoughts of hope—the thoughts that give Xehanort the benefit of the doubt. Surely he would’ve stayed if Eraqus wasn’t a master at hiding his grief, something Xehanort himself wasn’t all that talented at. All the fortitude left in his body gives, leaving the young man to slump to the bottom of the tub.

From where he lies, he spends hours beneath the torment of his thoughts. The rage and remorse dies down—not to a manageable quell but beyond that—to an empty, frozen void. His light is gone, but darkness is his enemy; so that leaves him in this miserable, gray limbo where those dark demons still have some reach. They lead him to a terrible realization.

It doesn’t matter whether or not Xehanort had to leave, it doesn’t matter if he knew about his companion’s turmoil, it doesn’t even matter if he intentionally abandoned Eraqus; what Eraqus understands and fully believes is that he doesn’t matter. Nothing he did could save his friends, nothing he did could stop the one he loved from leaving, nothing he does can stop these useless feelings. There’s no more light left in his life; there’s no more hope that the future will be a better place. He’s just another face in his family’s line—just another defender of light—nothing more.

Eraqus’s life moves on as if he’s always been alone—the same way his life started. The persona of a happy-go-lucky fool that he created—the person he always wanted to be—is dead; he’s given up pretending. As the weeks pass, his studies become the center of his life because he’s got nothing else to motivate him. His grades skyrocket to the top and his skills, both in swordsmanship and magic, become a force even his master considered to be reckoned with. Eraqus becomes the perfect student, the perfect heir of his bloodline, and the perfect warrior of light.


	2. Xehanort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xehanort returns but finds Eraqus is not as he remembers.

It’s been a few months since Xehanort took his leave in search of answers; it was a success—he got them and has a new mission for his future. However, there’s still things he needs to sort out in his adoptive-home world.

Stepping into the bright world of Scala Ad Caelum gives him a feeling akin imposter syndrome; nevertheless, there’s something to be done here as well as a special someone he needs to speak to. Despite having a new goal in life, he fully intends to speak to the person most important to him and, depending on the outcome of that discussion, decisions will be made. It makes him feel a nervousness he hasn’t endured in a long time; they parted in uncomfortable circumstances brought on by Xehanort himself, but surely his beloved would understand.

The trip to the citadel standing tall in the center of the city is drawn out as the seeker meanders, reminiscing in the better part of his childhood. Sad memories with friends flicker no matter where he looks and he reminds himself that, with time, he’s going to fix everything.

Entering the castle brings an uncertainty with it; perhaps he should check in with his master first.

Nothing about this place has changed, giving off a similar aura he’d gotten from his original world—he hates it. Scala never used to be so stagnant, or maybe Xehanort had been so enamored by his freedom to see it—not to mention there were also other reasons to love this place.

As he ambles along, his eyes catch sight of a familiar haori billowing behind a man with a familiar head of black hair. It’s the first moment back in Scala where he truly feels happy to be back.

“Eraqus,” he calls, feeling the burdens of his duty lighten just a little.

That respite vanishes when the man looks back at him. Granite eyes he remembered being full of light are empty; Xehanort had expected—almost hoped—to be bowled over in excitement upon his return, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, Eraqus faces him with a smile faker than traveler’s desire to be here.

“Xehanort,” he greets, not even rushing up to meet up halfway. “Welcome back.”

_Broken._ This is the only thought Xehanort has as he approaches and it’s haunting. While the urge to embrace his love is incredible, he refrains from doing so upon recognition that something in his former partner has changed. “Thanks. How’ve things been around here?”

“Oh it’s been pretty quiet.”

_Is that an automatic response?_ “So nice and boring? Guess that suits your laid back, lazy ass.” Eraqus laughs but not in the usual way, nor is there some sort of retort or defense on his part.

“How was your trip?” Xe thought it impossible, but Era’s eyes lose even more of their old light. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

He’d wanted to share everything with this man, but now he’s reconsidering. “Yeah. I did.”

“That’s good.”

From his goofball grin to the loving smiles he absentmindedly wore, Xehanort used to think he loved every one of Eraqus’s smiles, but this—this hollow, mechanical, miserable-excuse for a smile—makes it feel like he’s speaking with a mimic.

“You cut it pretty close—our exam is in a few hours. We were worried you weren’t going to make it.”

“Yeah, sorry. It took longer than I thought.”

“Oh well. You’re here now. You’d better go see Master Odin before you do anything else though.” A finger points back to the stairwell. “I’m pretty sure he’s in his office.”

“Um…Okay. Thanks.”

There’s a mix of concern and hurt in Xehanort’s thoughts as he gives Eraqus a brief wave and sets out to find his master—something has clearly happened in his absence.

Master Odin, too, expresses his concerns that the young man would not make it in time for his Mark of Mastery exam. Assurance is given that the pupil is ready for the exam and they discuss the specifics of the ceremony—all the while, Xehanort’s mind keeps dragging him back to that counterfeit expression.

In the hours leading up to the exam, Eraqus is nowhere to be found. Hopes had been had that they could sit down and catch up—and talk about the future—but those are dashed when there’s no time left.

There’s still neither hide nor hair of the youth in white even while Xehanort paces in a small waiting room just off the ceremony hall. Just as they should be starting the exam, an opening door reveals the second participant. There’s no chance for the other man to tease or scold him, though, before Master Odin appears to take them away.

The exam goes forward rather smoothly; each boy displays their magic and basic keyblade skills. There’s no doubt that Eraqus has gotten better but, not to be outdone, Xehanort ensures the things he’s learned on his trip are applied properly.

Then comes their sparring match. Once again, Eraqus faces him with a fake smile. The pair draws weapons, setting up fighting stances.

“Are you ready?” the Master asks each.

Xehanort’s “yes” is mixed in with Eraqus’s “yes master.”

“Then you may begin.”

Immediately following the master’s words, the pleasantry on the opposition’s face vanishes, shocking Xehanort but not enough to prevent his defense. Ruthless and calculated were never words to describe Eraqus and his style of fighting, but he’s barely giving his foe any room to retaliate. The intensity of this fight has shot beyond expectations, almost as if it’s real.

Xehanort’s been able to hold his own fairly well after adjusting to the seriousness of his partner, but his mistake comes when his back foot slides farther than expected. Without missing a beat, Eraqus takes advantage of the miscalculation and a keyblade promptly throws him to the ground. A swift kick dislodges Xe’s keyblade from his hand and that leaves him defenseless beneath the man towering over him.

Stone-colored eyes stare down at him, cold, fierce, and empty—like a killer. There’s a genuine fear for his life as Xehanort watches Eraqus prepare to strike him down. The metal flies with no mercy on behalf of the victim.

“Enough.”

There is no harm done. Silver eyes pry open to find cold steel barely centimeters above his head. The amount of control Eraqus would have to have to stop that swing while being fully committed to the attack is phenomenal.

The enemy retreats, weapon turning to glittering light in his hand. There’s no glance or sportsman-like hand offered to Xehanort left in the dirt.

_Just what the hell has he been doing while I’ve been gone?_

Once again, the pair stands before their master, awaiting further instruction. A lecture on always being able to learn no matter the rank falls on deaf ears—Xehanort’s mind is preoccupied.

Even if his plans are going to take him far from his home and his teachings, there had always been expectations that his promotion to Master would be more light-hearted than this. He thought friends would be here alongside him, all struggling to contain their elation. Even after their passing, he assumed he and Eraqus would be beaming with pride—instead it’s as if Master Odin has just told them class is dismissed and to be back tomorrow.

The new masters bow to their former teacher and congratulations are given by the sparse spectators before the boys take their leave. Once the door closes behind them, Xehanort pauses, intending to speak with his friend, but said friend continues on as if he doesn’t exist.

“Eraqus…”

He turns back with that stupid smile. “Yeah?”

There’s hesitation, confusion, hurt, and so many things swimming inside that, for the first time since he can remember, Xehanort’s not sure what to do. Somehow he manages to spit out, “Can I talk to you?”

In mockery of who he had been, Eraqus tilts his head. “About what?”

There’s really no easy way to condense it. “About the future.”

Finally, there’s a falter in that imitation—the corners of his lips drop just the slightest and something in his eyes reacts. “Okay. Like what?”

“Like…what are we gonna do now?”

“I think my parents had a few missions lined up for me to be a part of—you know, to get a reputation going.”

_You don’t even like your parents! What about me?!_ “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. What about you? What are your plans?”

It’s like he’s back in the sparring match, under attack—at least that’s what those eyes portray. “That’s what I wanted to talk about, but if you’re busy, that’s alright.”

“So you’re leaving again.” Not even a question, Eraqus just knows—practically accusing him.

_Am I?_ “Yeah, I guess. Don’t wanna get in the World Defender’s way after all.” The words are bitter and he immediately wants to stuff them back down, but words can’t be unspoken.

“I’m sure you’d be no bother.”

_Do you want me here or not?!_ “Nah. I’ve got some things to do.”

The placid contentedness returns, full of farce. Meanwhile, Xehanort wants to scream, to demand the old Eraqus back, but in saying that, he’s no longer the kid he used to be and that’s just not fair.

A spark catches silver eyes, drawing attention to the man’s ear where the matching black metal is clasped, further confuing the seeker. They had been so love—he was sure they would be together forever, no matter what trials they faced, but standing before him now is a stranger. Yet for some reason, they both still clung to silly fantasies symbolized by warped metal. Whispers of the promise he made scuttle through his mind.

“Then I guess I’ll see you later.” A little wave is offered as Eraqus turns away.

“Sure, I’ll see you later but—” The granite gaze finds him again. “Don’t you ever forget what I told you, I’m there for you.” For the second time, the parody falters, only Xehanort’s sure he can see a glimpse of the person he loved. “If you need me, just call—I’ll always find you.” A finger taps against the metal to emphasize his point.

Eraqus stands there motionless for a moment, and then just turns around to continue walking. He does say something as he goes though: “Don’t bother wasting your effort on me.”

_Then why bother wearing that fucking earring?!_ Resisting the urge to snatch his arm and drag him into some random, private room nearly proves too much for the silver-haired man, but he remains stationary until the ends of that white haori turn the corner. A million questions threaten to drown him and Eraqus may as well have taken Xe’s heart with him. Perhaps he’s upset that Xehanort left despite the promise to return for the exam or he may have simply outgrown his boyhood infatuation—regardless, he doesn’t seem to want Xehanort around.

“I guess that decides that then.”

In his trek, Xehanort comes to terms with the fact that Eraqus is no longer the man he fell in love with; however, while his travels may take him far away, he will never forget his most-cherished. His wayfinder, chosen specifically for him, will never be removed—it means far too much. He’ll come back, check in now and then, but if things are ever to return to the happiness he had known, Xehanort must move forward along the path laid out for him…by the man in the black coat.


End file.
